Catalyst
by mostlypsychotic
Summary: TYGER guards finally find the Scarecrow's hideout and bring him to Hugo Strange. There, he reveals all that brought him to the mega-prison, and what he plans to create for Gotham.


"_We've got him, sir. He's subdued and unarmed. Should we bring him in?" _

At his desk, Hugo Strange smiled proudly at the intercom, feeling very much successful at having captured what he considered the most wily prisoner in Arkham City. Considering he hadn't even known until just weeks before that this sly man was even in the prison...yes, very wily indeed.

"Bring him in," he affirmed, pressing a button to unlock the door to his office. "He will be no problem, so you may leave us alone."

"_Understood, sir."_

The door opened slowly, and two TYGER guards escorted the still-resisting prisoner into the chair on the opposite end of Strange's desk before backing out again and closing the door with a tight snap. The warden smiled serenely across the stacks of papers and clipboards on his desk, waiting for the prisoner to speak. When there was only silence, he spoke up, instead.

"...Well. There are many people I did not expect to see in Arkham City, Doctor Crane...you were most definitely one of them."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," the Scarecrow snarled, glaring at him through his torn mask. "I didn't think you'd find me...but I suppose research can never go by smoothly for someone like me..." He sighed regretfully, resting his hands on the table, and Strange found himself surprised to see that even the needles that adorned his one hand had been removed. Unarmed had been an understatement, it seemed.

"It is...hardly a disappointment, Jonathan. I always found you one of the asylum's most interesting cases. I am merely pointing out that I, like so many others, thought you were dead."

"Dead? _Please_," the criminal scoffed, shaking his head. "That poor buffoon couldn't have killed me. All it took was a little jab..." He held up a hand and stabbed it forward quickly, then nodded with an ever-so-slight smile. "He let me go, to say the least. But I assume that's not why I'm here, correct? You want something. You always do."

"I simply want to know what you came here for. My sources told me that you were hiding in a boat inside the prison, but nobody _sent _you there, obviously. Therefore, you arrived before the prison was finished."

"Excellent detective skills, professor," Scarecrow replied sarcastically. "Why do you _think _I chose the prison? Nobody thinks that a wanted criminal would go hide inside a prison, now, do they? I just want to be able to finish my newest experiment in peace. And for a while, it was working." He gave his captor a resentful glare through the hole in his mask, but it was obviously ignored.

"Understandable. All records show that your...experiments...do not have many fans." Strange paused, jotting down a few notes before he spoke again. "A search of your boat found a few shipments of cockroaches, and a captured, bound inmate, who proceeded to-"

"You _searched _the boat?" Crane fumed, standing up sharply and prompting the two guards to come in immediately, their weapons raised. "That's a delicate, controlled environment!"

"And none of my guards touched anything, I assure you. Your environment is unchanged, save for the inmate. He screamed when one guard got too close to him, and then died." Strange's calm, monotonous voice was soothing enough for the ex-psychiatrist, and he sat down again, glancing suspiciously back at the guards behind him as they backed out again.

"I was hoping he'd last longer," he said irritably. "I suppose I can send the body up top, if you want it." Now he smiled again, his eyes narrowing. "And what about you, Strange? Don't think I don't remember what you did at the asylum. Obviously, you have something big planned for this place."

"And so do you, Jonathan. I'm glad we understand each other." The eye contact between the two was suddenly unwavering, and the Scarecrow's smile faded.

"You don't know anything," he said coldly. It was Strange's turn to smile, even if it was more of a smirk, and he shook his head.

"I know that at this very moment, you are most likely wondering what it is I fear, in order to exploit it. Is that safe to say, Doctor Crane? You are also thinking about your experiments, and what would become of you if I did not permit you to leave this room alive."

"You won't kill me."

"Do you know that?"

Crane remained silent for a moment, adjusting his now-lopsided mask. He focused suddenly on his hands, his frustration returning.

"I want my needles back. My hand hurts when they're not on," he complained.

"You'll get them back if you cooperate," Strange promised, nodding curtly at his opponent's hands. "What if I told you that I would not interfere with your plots and schemes, even if I did know what they were?"

"Why would you do that?" Crane scoffed, unfazed by the remark. "As far as I can see, you're trying to eliminate crime from Gotham. Why would you let me, a known criminal by most records, go about my work if you knew it would most likely throw your precious city into chaos?" Before the professor could answer, the Scarecrow turned his attention to another pressing matter. "Speaking of which, where is Batman? I would have presumed he knows what's happening in here by now."

"The Batman is being held in this prison as well, Jonathan. He is as much at your disposal as any other inmate." The criminal's eyes widened at this news, and his mind began racing immediately. "Now, obviously this little meeting of ours is going nowhere, so I will have you escorted back to your boat. However, as long as your work does not conflict with mine, I will also give you freedom to do as you choose within my prison walls. Best of luck, Jonathan." This was apparently the hint for the guards to enter again, handcuffing the Scarecrow again and leading him from the room as he maintained his silence. Only when he was at the doorway did he look over his shoulder, the gleam in his eyes returning.

"Fear will tear Gotham to _shreds_, Professor," he warned. "And as for you...I will learn what I need to. Until next time." As the door snapped closed behind him, Strange nodded calmly, more to himself than to the fallen-from-grace psychiatrist.

"I do not doubt it, Jonathan," he murmured to himself as he pulled out a new file for his notes.


End file.
